Our Vaycay
by MostlyScrubbed
Summary: When an opportunity to attend a medical conference in Las Vegas arises, two of Sacred Heart's finest secretly apply for the spots. - ON HIATUS -
1. My Good Morning

**A/N: Hello! I'm planning a number of chapters for this one, hope you all enjoy. Please read and review, let me know how my characterization is. Thanks a lot!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Scrubs, but I wish I did.  
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I know, I've been wrong so many times before when I was certain that the day was going to be great. It always ends with me being mopped, tripped, or fooled into eating someone's week-old raspberry cheesecake, except the raspberry sauce was "flirty fiesta" colored nail polish and the cake was hospital mattress foam. But this time it's different. I've got a piping hot hazelnut latte in one hand and an absolutely scrumptious homemade, sprinkled donut in the other. The sun is just starting to creep out of bed, rubbing its cute little blazing eyes with its shining rays, and illuminating Sacred Heart so that it looks like a beacon of all that is good and right with the world. Today my patients will make miraculous recoveries, I'll finally diagnose Mr. Martinez, I'll be promoted to CHIEF Resident, and Dr. Cox will finally, finally, finally admit that I'm his equal, his colleague, and his friend. This is going to be the best day ever.

I took a sip of my delicious latte, squinting my eye to admire the perfect amount of cinnamon-speckled foam through the tiny hole in the lid, and walked through the sliding door to the hospital.

As I stepped over the threshold and my left foot hit the floor on the other side, my danger sense began to tingle. _But JD,_ you may ask, _how does your magical sensory ability work? Better yet, how long have you had it, and good GOD why haven't you EVER used it before you gelled-up buffoon?_ And I may say to you, how long have you known Dr. Cox, and how much did he pay you to yell at me? Can't a guy look good while he's saving lives for a living? Man, see if I tell you about my day ever again…

Oh right, sorry. So somewhere on the periphery of my vision I saw the Janitor. But it was so early in the morning, and I was so not quite awake yet, and my latte was sooooo good. I couldn't quite usher that image into the part of my brain that sends off the sirens and alarms, complete with the marching band led by the portly, mustachioed drum major with a sparkly baton and really bad hat. The girls with the flags sort of shuffled out and started twirling (morning, ladies!), but that was as far as I got.

The Janitor took one step toward me, reached a screwdriver towards me, and used it to tip my cup upward, spilling the contents down my blue scrub top, uttering a congenial "Mornin', Scooter!"

That wasn't so bad in itself. I mean yeah, I'd be ticked off at the Janitor ruining my top, spilling my coffee, and otherwise sullying my tip-top mood, but it didn't have day-ruining potential. What did, however, was the temperature of my coffee. It was hot; blazing hot. It was so incredibly hot that I immediately screamed at the top of my lungs, throwing my arms wide in an attempt to shrug off my hooded sweatshirt and backpack. My nearly-empty latte cup tumbled to the floor, and I was finally able to pull my soaked scrub top. I stood there panting, grasping my wet t-shirt and flapping it against my chest, trying to cool off a bit. Only after I was sure I wasn't going to burn to death did I realize that I had lost my donut to the Janitor.

He frowned, holding the pastry on the flat palm of his hand. He jabbed me in the chest with his screwdriver. "You spilled on yourself. And my floor." His eyes followed mine to the donut in his hand, and his expression changed for the better. "Ah. A peace offering. Thanks, Scooter. You're not half bad." And just as he was about to take a bite out of it, something beautiful (then horrible, then beautiful) happened.

"JD! What are you doing just standing in the doorway? Rounds start in five minutes, we should- OOF!" Elliot bounced unknowingly through the door and tripped over my backpack, her momentum sending her right into the Janitor. The donut flew from his hand just as his mouth clamped shut, teeth biting into nothing. I stared, frozen, as it sailed away from us down the hallway, dropping sprinkles on the carpet like a bomber with an open torpedo bay. I watched a single sprinkle, a cheerful pink sliver of sugary goodness, fall in slow motion towards the carpet. Shaking off the thought of tiny carpet-dwellers about to be annihilated, I tracked the donut falling into the lap of a sleeping elderly man being pushed in a wheelchair.

The nurse turned the man away from us, wheeling him down the corridor. I cringed slightly, but steeled myself. He looked pretty clean, and the donut was resting squarely upon the crisp hospital gown that he wore. If I could just pluck it off of his leg, the day would be saved.

Before I could make a move forwards, Doug came flailing out of a room directly in front of nurse-pushing-wheelchair, scaring the bajeezus out of her. She jerked to a halt with a yelp, causing the old man to jolt awake in his seat. The Donut was on the move again! I groaned and strained my eyes as it continued to travel in the wrong direction. It came to rest on a tray of breakfast items bound for a patient's room, that tray being one of about fifty being pushed down the hallway in a giant cart by a whistling orderly. That was it. I had to make a move for it now, or lose it forever to some bedridden schlub who would then deposit it back into a bedpan. I started running.

I dodged the grasp of the Janitor, the guy in the wheelchair, and an extremely nervous Doug, and had almost caught up to the whistling breakfast orderly when he stopped dead in his tracks, turning to an open room. "Hey Mr. O'Brien, how ya feeling this moooooOOOH CRAP!" He'd seen me barreling towards him and reacted quickly, grabbing an empty tray from the cart and holding it up in front of himself like a shield. Putting on the brakes too late, I slid crazily into him, bouncing off the tray and spinning out of control right into the breakfast cart. I bumped into the cart and clutched it as it rolled away from the orderly, desperately trying to regain my vision after being spun into dizziness. The cart sped down the hallway, and I could see a blurry figure moving towards me rapidly. Wait, had he been moving or was it just an effect of Mr. Dorian's Wild Ride? Either way we were on a collision course, and he wasn't budging. His arms were crossed fiercely in front of his chest, and his white coat flared out behind him. I couldn't make out his face as my world was still spinning, but I was pretty sure who it was, and boy did he look made.

I think I held on to the cart for about three seconds total before my hands slipped. My fingers ran down the side of the cart, flipping trays full of breakfast food into the air. As I fell backward I remember glimpsing an omelet falling with me. It was folded perfectly in half, and as it drifted downward it fluttered airily, imitating a mouth as it said to me, "How's your day going now, Sunshine?" I could've sworn that the two bits of bell pepper that were its eyes glimmered evilly at me before coming into contact with the floor, but that thought was pushed away as I came down with an acute case of air-knocked-out-of-me. Raisin Bran and fruit cups rained down all around me as I gasped, my head lolling back and forth on the floor in pain. Suddenly a pair of sneakers appeared on either side of my head, and I looked up to see Dr. Cox glaring down at me. He was holding my donut.

"Well, real nice job there Newbie, remembering I like half sprinkles and all, but next time would ya make a little less racket when you're presenting me with something like this? Cause if word gets back to Carla that you got me this little pastry, well she's gonna assume it was a muffin, and then your little secret will be out that not only are you trying in every horrible, dysfunctional way to emulate me, but that your little need for affirmation has escalated into a full-blown eighth grade crush, and won't it be a pity when all the girls laugh at you after school when they find out the guy you've been eyeing already has a date to the Sadie Hawkins Dance? Just a shame. Terrible shame." He took a bite of the donut, raised it to me as in a toast, then spat out as an afterthought, "And will you get your ass to rounds? God, I don't know how I put up with you sometimes…" Dr. Cox wandered off muttering then, and I lay there, panting.

A pair of black boots appeared nearby, and a hand reached down to grasp mine. Looking warily up at the Janitor, I considered his offering. With a sigh I realized that my morning was already about as low as it could get, so I grasped his hand as he hauled me to my feet. He looked straight at me, glaring, and gave me a swift kick in the shin.

"Ow! You monster! What was that for?!" I yelled, hopping in an attempt to rub my sore leg.

He placed a hand on either side of my face and looked into my eyes. He drew me close to him, and my blood ran cold as he whispered, "I know it was you. You broke my heart. You broke my heart!" Dread filled my chest for a moment, then I realized I'd heard that somewhere before. He must've seen the confusion on my face because he clarified, "You know, from the Godfather. The kick of death."

I broke free of his hold and shook my head, spluttering, "You idiot! That's the kiss of death, the KISS of death! Not kick! UGH!"

The Janitor scrunched up his face disgustedly. "That's just wrong. Go on, get out of here." He waved me off with a shudder and went off to do… whatever he does for the majority of the day. Certainly not anything janitorial.

"C'mon, JD," Elliot said. She had collected my things, handing me my nearly empty coffee cup, clothing and backpack. "If you hurry you can grab a new scrub top before rounds. I'll meet you upstairs." She patted me comfortingly on my shoulder and fast-walked away, not wanting to be late herself.

I sighed and took a sip of the latte, savoring the flavor of the last mouthful. "Ooh, still warm!" The day was looking up.


	2. My Shark Attack

**A/N: Hi! Thanks for the kind words on the first chapter. Hopefully you'll continue to enjoy the story as it progresses. Sorry the first two chapters are so short, I'm trying to cut the future content into bigger chunks for a more satisfying read. As a clarification, this story takes place during the summer between Season 4 and 5, and will continue to be in JD's POV for the foreseeable future.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Scubs or any of the characters, sadly. I just make them dance once in a while.**

Thankfully, nobody noticed that I was late for rounds. I arrived in the ICU to find Dr. Kelso being surrounded by a swarm of nurses, interns and residents. He had a flyer in his hand, about to affix it to the small bulletin board in the middle of the room.

"Alright, all you asinine apple-polishers, gather 'round. Next week is the annual NMA conference. It's kind of a big to-do and I'd really rather just go myself as usual and leave you all here to wallow in your self-pity, but Enid's having surgery to remove a neuroma between her toes and wants me around for moral support for some Godforsaken reason. I'd normally tell her to suck it up and move the surgery back, but damned if she hasn't been actually using that treadmill I bought her for her birthday, and I want to get her ass back up on it ASAP. So anyways, since Enid and I won't be going, two spots just opened up. I'll be taking applications from you imbeciles. You have until Thursday to get them in to me, and I'll post the names up here on Friday so you can either gloat or do whatever it is you folks do when you don't get something you want. I'm not really sure what that would be, as I'm not often in that situation. I honestly don't care which of you people ends up going, as long as I don't hear any stories about gorgeous Asian showgirls or giant pots won at the craps table upon your return." Kelso turned and began to make his way out of the crowd, suddenly tired of being the center of attention. Murmurs of interest piped up around him as he threaded his way between the onlookers.

Elliot cocked her head at him as he left. "But, um, Dr. Kelso?" she began, "why would Enid go with you to a medical conference? Wouldn't that be boring for her?"

Dr. Kelso paused just in front of me and turned back to the group. "Because, the conference is in Vegas, baby!" He flashed his patented Bob Kelso Grin at her before resuming his customary scowl and continued on his way.

I could see Elliot's expression brighten with excitement as the crown clamored around her, squeezing her back in towards the flyer. Their murmurs turned into squeals of anticipation as they considered a week in Las Vegas. Notebooks were flipped open and dates were taken down, and I could hear people planning already what shows they'd be seeing and which clubs they'd be attending.

I hung back, more than a little warily. I remembered the last time I'd gone to a big conference, and the whole thing had not gone down well. There was the whole finding an interesting case study thing, which was kind of embarrassing in a "Hey do you mind if I examine you like an insect and put your body and life story up on display" way. The plane ride was horrible, the hotel was barely passable, and the conference itself was dominated by men that looked, talked and smelled pretty much like Dr. Kelso. Don't get me wrong, I went to a couple of really great seminars and brought back some useful information, but the whole experience as a whole left a bad taste in my mouth. Add to all of that the Dr. Cox-style brow beatings I had to endure before, during (don't ask) and after the trip, and it was pretty much one of my worst experiences as an intern. Speaking of brow beatings…

I felt Dr. Cox suddenly looming behind me. He can be so damn stealthy sometimes. "Whattaya say there, Dory? Gonna go ahead and jump right on into the thick of the guppies swarming around that chunk o' chum that old bull shark Bobbo laid out for ya? Bet he's circling around right now, grinning and rubbing his hands together and wondering what tasty little morsel he's gonna catch with this bait."

I shot Dr. Cox my patented "The Crap Are You Talking About?" glance over my shoulder. I was partially curious if he'd actually watched Finding Nemo or if he just knew that there was a ditzy girl fish in it. Man, I love Ellen. But I was also baffled by his comment about Dr. Kelso. I decided to voice that issue rather than the one about the movie, even though I knew that HE knew what I was thinking about Finding Nemo. Got to mix it up once in a while, ya know? "What? Dr. Kelso said he doesn't care who goes. He's probably going to draw names out of a hat or something."

Dr. Cox snorted and rolled his eyes at that. He had his arms folded tightly over his chest, and he did his wobbling Weeble impression. "And how long have you worked here now, Newbie? You should know how continuing ed works in this dump by now. Bobbo only picks the truly worthy, or those he wants to torment especially, depending on his mood at the time. I'm guessing this one's going to be a torture fest based on the fact that he's obviously paHISSED that he doesn't get to take the trip back home to Sin City this time around. He'll end up choosing a couple of idiots who'll end up either being ridiculously beholden to him for an extended period of time or extremely irritated by whatever series of events he has planned out for them. I mean gawsh, Angel, the man doesn't have a good bone in his body. Or piece of cartilage, for that matter."

I watched Dr. Cox for a moment after he was through ranting. He didn't look especially angry, more resigned than anything. I wondered what he was thinking about, but didn't get a chance to ask him. He stalked off just as Turk slammed open the door to the ICU, surgical posse in tow. He marched up to Carla, who was chit-chatting with another nurse on the outskirts of the feeding frenzy, and swept her up into a bear hug. She swatted playfully at him, but gave him a peck as he set her down. "I heard something about a trip to Vegas, baby, Baby! Whatcha say to that mess? Wanna get funky down in L-V-Town?"

Carla grinned at Turk, grasping his hands and swinging them playfully back and forth. "I don't know, Buppy. I always imagined our first real vacation to be in a place that we'd be sharing with less than three million people. Someplace beautiful, intimate, you know, somewhere we can get away from it all. We could take the boat out to Catalina, rent a little house for the weekend…" She looked hopefully up at him, batting her eyelashes.

Dismayed, Turk put on his rationalizing face. "Aww, Baby! You know I would LOVE that. You so know it. But this is VEGAS!" He squeaked out the last word, his rationalizing face giving way to his pouty face. "Think about it! The amazing food, sexy clubs, awesome shows! Oh oh oh, and there's a big prize fight at Caesar's that weekend! Dayum, that would be so cool! You'd have a blast, Baby! Come ON!"

"I would have a blast? Those all sound like things that would interest you. Do you really think I'd enjoy any of that?" Carla placed her hands on her hips, daring Turk to continue.

He continued. "You WOULD enjoy it!" Then, under his breath, "… if you loved me."

Carla gasped. "Oh no you DIDN'T! You did NOT just say that! We are having a talk right now!" She snagged Turk by the ear and dragged him out of the ICU. His arms flailed towards me as he was pulled away. I shrugged at him, miming as though I had a shovel and was digging myself deeper and deeper into a hole. He flipped me off just before he rounded the corner, disappearing from view.

"JD," whined Elliot, who has appeared in front of me. I jumped a little, having not seen her approach. "What do I do? I mean, it's such a great opportunity. Did you see some of the speakers listed? Dr. Bergquist from John's Hopkins is going to be there! He's the author of two of my endocrinology textbooks! It'd be like five days of pure knowledge pouring right into my brain." She sighed heavily. "But on the other hand, what if I get stuck going to this thing with a complete moron? What if it's Doug? What if it's Mickhead? What if it's…" she shuddered, "Dr. Zeltzer? I'd probably be dragged into some horrible lawsuit involving him, a couple of dead hooker, and that tiger that belongs to those two gay magicians."

I scoffed. "Siegfried and Roy aren't gay. They're just two men with fabulous hair who spend most of their time together in various states of undress, even while they're at work, which involves playing with giant kitties." Elliot could be so sterotypical sometimes. You'd make an ass out of you and me, Elliot. you AND me. Sheesh.

"Whatever," Elliot muttered, clearly uninterested in the truth. Then she looked at me as though seeing me for the first time today. "What about you, JD? Are you doing to put your name in?"

And there it was. The question had finally been posed to me, and I didn't have a way out. I glanced over my shoulder again, but Dr. Cox wasn't in sight. That lessened my anxiety some, but not much. "I don't know yet," was the best I could do. So we stood there, two of the least decisive doctors on the planet, staring at each other and thinking about possibilities. It could be fun to go, especially with Elliot. It wouldn't happen that way, though, and I know she was thinking the same thing. We weren't quite right yet. I don't think we could take one day, let alone five, together in a city where we didn't know anyone else. If one of us got a spot the other would probably bail.

The crowd was starting to disperse. Guess it was time to start rounds.


	3. My Charade

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews! They're like crack to me. Only since I've never tried crack, maybe they're like Crème Brule. Mmmmm. Anyways, thanks a lot, I hope it continues to entertain!**

**Disclaimer/Confession: I cry myself to sleep every night because I don't own Scrubs or the characters therein. So very sad.**

"Man, you gotta go for it," said Turk as we slid through the lunch line in the cafeteria. He grabbed three sugar-free jell-o cups and dropped them on his tray before moving on to consider the next desert item. "It's gotta go to someone who'll enjoy it. Dude, imagine if Kelso picked Dr. Beardface and Colonel Doctor. They'd like, sit around in smoking jackets puffing cigars and swishing around brandy or somethin'. They wouldn't take full advantage of what could possibly be a life-altering five days! Damn, if it was you and me going, we would rip it UP, yo!" He stopped in front of the assortment of cake slices and snagged a piece of yellow cake with chocolate frosting. "This sugar-free?" he asked the server behind the counter. She shook her head slightly while rolling her eyes. He asks every day, and every day he gets the same bored response. He puts it on his tray anyhow, glancing around to see if anyone (read: Carla) saw him before sidling up to the cashier.

I wasn't feeling especially hungry today. I'd only picked up a Fresca and some sort of salad, but I couldn't even tell you what kind of salad it was. I couldn't focus well enough to tell because I was thinking so hard about the conference. Thursday had finally rolled around and I hadn't dropped my slip off at Dr. Kelso's office yet. I don't really know why I couldn't come to a decision, or why the choice seemed to matter so much to me, but it did. I paid for the meal and went to sit with Turk, who had a table with Carla and Elliot nearby. I slumped into the empty chair and idly picked at my food.

"Still haven't made up your mind, JD?" Elliot asked quietly from across the table. She looked at me with a combination of concern and annoyance, and I could tell she had made up her own mind. She wanted to go, and that made me feel even worse about considering taking the trip in the first place. I shrugged.

Carla sighed at me. "Come on, Bambi. You can't keep dragging your feet like this. It's been three days. You have to consider other people's feelings in the matter." She placed a hand on Elliot's shoulder as she said that, which made me cringe inwardly. Elliot had been talking to her about it, I was sure. I choked down my feelings of guilt over that and brought the matter at hand back into view. I had to decide today. The deadline was fast approaching.

Turk had just opened his second jell-o cup when he said, "Baby, leave the man alone. He needs time, can't you tell this is a tough one for him?" He gestured with the jell-o as he spoke, using it to punctuate his thoughts. It was such a lovely shade of red, and it jiggled magnificently. I really wished at that moment that he'd squeeze it extra hard and it would land right on my plate so I could eat it. I wouldn't care about the lettuce and little bits clinging to it. I just really desperately wanted that jell-o. But instead of squeezing he kept talking. "Don't really understand why it's so tough for him, but anyway, Elliot, why don't you go let Kelso know you wanna go, and then you two can duke it out later if JD decides he wants to go. It'll take a little pressure off for now, give him some room to think." Turk dumped the entire contents of the jell-o cup into his mouth at that point, sadly. I think I drooled a little.

Elliot eyed me as she stood to leave for Kelso's office, and Carla eyed Turk as he processed the jell-o. "That better be sugar-free, or we're not playing Find-the-Goldfish when we get home."

"Dude!" I whispered excitedly to Turk. "Find-the-Saltine, but with Goldfish crackers?!"

His mouth full of jell-o, Turk could only nod at me, eyes wide and grinning, as if to say "Hell yeah!"

"What about the cake?" Carla continued.

Turk choked slightly before finally swallowing and nodding at his wife. "Made special, just for me!" He made a show of turning around to face the cafeteria worker behind the counter. "Thanks again, Willamena!" Willamena only rolled her eyes.

I smirked at their exchange. It really would be great to be able to go to the conference with Turk. We'd sponge up new information and techniques all day, compare notes over drinks, then go out for some wild and crazy nights.

"_C'mon, man! I got tickets to the new Cirque du Soleil show!" I'd grab Turk, we'd dress in some swanky club-ready woman-killing attire, and head off to be entertained._

_We'd sit right in the front row, clapping like excited kids at the antics of the performers, gasping in surprise as they started climbing atop one another's shoulders, reaching high up towards the rafters, and when the two climbing people-vines looked ready to topple, they'd twine together, wrapping around each other gracefully._

_We'd cheer nerdily, "Double helix!" and clap until our hands were numb. But oh no! The towers would start trembling, and the skinny kid holding up one of the helices would begin to fall. I'd leap majestically onstage, arms akimbo, and then I'd charge into the mayhem. Pushing the kid out of harm's way, I'd slide into his place, holding up the performers with my manly strength and steely resolve._

"_Woohoo!" I'd yell out, basking in the glory of the audience cheering enthusiastically at me._

_The kid would frown up at me. "You big jerk! That was part of the act!" And then he'd give me a swift kick in the shin, causing me to fall ungracefully and be crushed by the falling troupe._

"That's what you get for putting a twelve year old Chinese kid on the bottom of the chain!" I shook off the reverie, clutching my leg while lying on the floor. Again with the shin kicking! What the heck is up with that?

Turk held out a hand to help me up. "Cirque du Soleil again?"

I nodded ruefully. "They should have a barrier to keep audience members offstage."

Carla ignored the whole ordeal and took a bite from her fruit plate. "Alright JD, last words from me on the matter." Turk snickered at that, but she kept going. "Are you leaning towards going, or staying?

"Yes," I said, hoping to sound coy.

She smiled at me in that knowing way, and I was pretty sure she knew which was I was leaning. I just needed that one last little push to swing me over into the "definite" category, and she was about to deliver that push. "Think about yourself for once. Do what's right for you. Not for Turk, or Elliot, or Dr. Cox."

Dr. Cox? I hadn't even brought him up, hadn't entered him as a player in the game of Conference Tug-of-War. Though when I thought really hard about it, he would be on both teams, twin Perry Cox's, both snarling and seething. The game could go either way. If I went, he could disapprove of me kowtowing to Dr. Kelso and The Establishment, or he could approve of my go-and-get-'em attitude and newfound information. If I stayed, he could disapprove of my hesitancy and lack of, well, man parts, or he could approve of my lack of desire to be One of Them.

But the longer I thought about him, the more I realized that Carla was right. I remembered the last time he confronted me about the matter, when I had won the right to go to Reno. I also remembered how I'd replied to the confrontation.

"_You know, I don't care what you think," I had said, hoping it was true._

"_Yeah, you do," Dr. Cox had said, crushing that hope._

_I immediately knew he was right. "I know. Look, I wanna be like you… but a more successful you. There's nothing wrong with playing the game once in a while."_

The look on his face hadn't registered right away. I was too caught up in the moment, too scared of the words that were pouring out of my mouth, fearing that at any time now Dr. Cox would launch into a tirade or punch me in the face. But as I looked back on the moment I recognized the… defeat, I guess. And as I look back on looking back, I realize that look was the same he had on the morning that Dr. Kelso told us about the conference.

Then he was there, in the cafeteria entrance, looking annoyed. Who knows with what. But in my mind he was annoyed with me for not making a decision, and so I did.

Carla must've seen the resolve in my eyes. She looked taken aback. "Oh, my God. You actually listened to something I had to say, thought about it with minimal daydreaming, and came to a decision without injuring yourself or others! This, this right here?" She pointed at the table in front of her. "This is a proud moment for me! Bambi, you've made my day!" Carla picked up one last strawberry from her plate and bounced up from the table, giving me a smooch on the cheek. She blew Turk a kiss, popped the berry in her mouth and pranced happily away. On the way out she passed Dr. Cox, who looked very intrigued by the exchange. He cocked an eyebrow at her as she went by, but she just smiled sweetly at him and went back to work.

Turk turned to look at me. "Well? What are you gonna do, man?"

I faced my best friend. I knew Dr. Cox was still in the room, leaning against a pillar and watching us… judging us. Alright, if he wanted to play hardball, that was what he'd get.

I held up four fingers.

"Huh? Four? Four what? Ooohhhh!" Turk's eyes went wide with glee. "Charades! Yeah, we're gonna rock this, dude. Okay, four words?"

I nodded, holding up my first finger, and then pointed at myself.

"Scrubs. Shirt. Umm, you." I rocked my head back and forth, hoping to pull off a "kinda close" expression. "JD. Okay, uh, oh! Oh, oh! Vanilla Bear! Oh crap, that's two words in itself. Damn…"

I sighed, and pointed at my eye, nearly poking myself in the process.

"Eye? Oh I!" exclaimed Turk proudly.

I nodded, holding up two fingers, and leered at his third, unopened jell-o container.

"Want! Dude, too easy, keep goin'!"

Grinning, I held up three fingers, then two.

Confusedly, Turk said, "Two? Oh, to… 'I want to!'" He laughed. "Man, the suspense is killin' me here!"

Taking a deep breath, I held up four fingers. Closing my eyes, I pointed with all of my might towards the window.

"Yeah!" Turk fist pumped and punched me in the shoulder with said fist. "You go, JD. You go and get 'em! I hope you get it, and I hope you have the time of your life!"

Even though I wasn't sure about Turk's statement, I knew I was making the right choice. Heck, it might not even pan out. I might get to go, or it might be someone else, but at least I'll have put my name in and given it a shot. At least I'll have tried.

I was feeling pretty good about myself as I listened to Turk babble on about what I should do if I was chosen to go to Las Vegas, but then I remembered who had been standing a few yards away, watching our impromptu charades party. I glanced up, but Dr. Cox was gone. I wondered briefly if he had left in disgust or pride, but pushed him out of my mind. The moment was mine. I gathered my thoughts and finished up my lunch. Time to go see Dr. Kelso.


	4. My So Many Questions

**A/N: I'm trying to stick with my plan of alternating chapters of this story and His Limits. I really wanted to write more HL but I finally got this one together. I have very little willpower so we'll see how long that lasts. I also have another (much stupider) crossover/AU story in my mind. That one will be a long time coming, as I'm sure I'll receive nothing but ridicule for it. And I know I mentioned before that I dislike crossovers and AUs, but I've read several lately that have blown me away, so I rescind that. Sorry to anyone I offended.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Scrubs or any characters in this chapter. However, I may in the future contact Bill Lawrence and chat with him about designing a line of Scrubs-character-shaped doggie toys. I can't decide between ones that squeak or ones who have a little voice box inside that spout quotes when the dog bites them. Hmm. Don't worry, you'll get it in a few minutes. Go ahead, read.**

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**Chapter 4: My So Many Questions**

I strolled casually down the halls of Sacred Heart, forming my thoughts. I wanted to give Dr. Kelso a good reason (or hopefully, multiple reasons) to choose me to send to the conference.I began my speech in my head. _Dr. Kelso! You're looking particularly dashing today. Is that a new tie? Have you been lifting weights? You seem extra tan. Have you been at the beach? Um, n-no, Sir, I don't usually hit on older men… No! Not younger men either! Er, I'm positive I'm not interested in meeting your son, that's not to say I don't think he's a very fine person, but… Wait, Sir, this isn't going the way I wanted it to, can we start over?_

"How's it hanging, uh, Dr. Dorian?" interrupted Ted. He was standing in the middle of the hallway looking somewhat confused. Well, maybe more than somewhat. Slightly more confused than usual, at least.

"Hey, Ted. What's up?"

Ted scratched his balding head with his right hand. His left hand held his enormous briefcase, and pinned between his left arm and side were what seemed to be reams of jumbled papers as well as several thick law books. I watched one of the books slipping slowly. "I don't know what to do!" he wailed. "Dr. Kelso told me to go home! I think it might be a trick. He does that do me sometimes. I'm like a very busy, sweaty chew toy." He sighed.

I frowned. "Well, that's a slightly disturbing image. Did he tell you why he wanted you to go home?"

"Oh!" Ted perked up, flinging his right arm skyward as though he was a child raising his hand. "He's going home early today!"

Smiling, I patted his shoulder. "That's great, Ted. Sounds like you have the afternoon off. Enjoy."

Ted's eyes widened. "OH! WOOHOO!" he shouted, and lifted his other hand in celebration, fists punching the air. His briefcase, books and papers fell to the ground in a spectacular mess, forgotten in the jubilant moment, littering the hallway. I quietly slipped away as he celebrated.

Something clicked inside my head after I'd walked a few paces away. _Dr. Kelso's taking the rest of the day off… oh CRAP! Time to run!_

I sprinted the rest of the way to his office, nearly sliding past the doorway. Grabbing the doorframe to stop my momentum, I quickly pulled myself up into a casual leaning pose. Dr. Kelso was about two feet away from the door, looking for all intents and purposes like he was about to leave. He had one arm through his coat and his keys in his hand.

His bushy eyebrows practically sprang from his face when he saw me. "Ah, Dr. Dorian! I was wondering when you'd show your puerile face. Seems your name is conspicuously absent from the list of idiots who want to pretend to be me for a few days. Have you finally come to give me your spiel or may I get the hell out of here so I can go home and pack my wife's suitcase for her exciting day of pain tomorrow?"

I hadn't quite caught my breath, but I rushed ahead. "Dr. Kelso… you're looking… particularly… dashing… ah hell. Screw that." He looked mildly irritated at my odd opening, but let me continue. "I really, really want to be considered for the conference. I think it'll be the chance of a lifetime. There are going to be some amazing lectures by the top minds in the country, even the world. I've been looking at the offerings for weeks, wishing I'd somehow be able to go, and I even already have my classes selected." I tried to look confident, and smiled. "I promise you, Dr. Kelso, I'll do you, and Sacred Heart, proud."

Dr. Kelso's eyes twinkled. "Great speech, Sport. Already picked you to go. It's just going to be you though, we've had some issues with funding and I had to refund one of the tickets and reroute the money elsewhere in the hospital. Have a great time!" And with that, he pushed by me, closed and locked his door, and was on his way.

I looked after him, stunned. _What the hell just happened?!_

---

Making my way back, I couldn't quite grasp what had occurred. Had my speech been so moving that Dr. Kelso could foresee _me_ as a speaker at one of these conferences, so he wanted me to attend so I could see what my future life would be like? Was I already such a solid doctor that he really had selected me before I came to him? But why would he announce two openings if he already had me in mind? And when had they decided that only one person could go to the conference? Before or after he'd made his announcement earlier in the week? I had no answers for myself. And when I rounded the corner and saw my friends hanging around the nurses' station, I knew they'd just have more unanswerable questions, so I decided to keep my mouth shut about the situation.

"Hey man!" called out Turk from on top of the counter. He was sitting like a little kid, swinging his legs back and forth. "Heard Kelso was knockin' off early today, did you catch him?"

I smiled. "Yeah, I totally caught him right as he was leaving. Put my name in, gave him the song and dance. Guess it's just time to cross my fingers and toes now." I held up my hands, displaying my intertwined fingers, before leaning on the counter with my elbows. I couldn't stand without leaning, what with my toes being crossed and all.

Elliot nudged me. "I'm glad you finally decided, JD. Good for you."

"Thanks," I replied. I looked down, agonizing over what I wanted to say to her. I felt a little slimy about it, but figured it couldn't hurt to use my knowledge to my advantage. "I uh, I really hope you get to go. You deserve to go more than anyone here."

She looked sincerely touched, and had opened her mouth to reply when I felt a presence behind me.

"Ooh, ooh, where's she going? No, wait! Let me guess." We turned to see a sarcastically pensive Dr. Cox pursing his lips in thought. He tapped his chin with a finger, then snapped his fingers while looking inspired. "Okay, I've got it. She's going to give up medicine, thank Whatever, move back to Connecticut, settle into her parents' pool house and live the Desperate Housewife life. Hmm, well, desperate though she may be, I don't see the wife thing happening anytime soon. So she's going to get a job at Mattel as the new spokesmodel for an entire new line of Barbie dolls, Barbie clothing, Barbie makeup and other Barbie paraphernalia. Naw, that would make too-hoooo much sense. No sense comes from this woman. Alright, I have it, this is the winner! She's going to go back to school and get her Ph.D. and become a professor because, as we all well know, those who can't do, teach. Am I right, or am I right people? Huh?" Dr. Cox held his arms outstretched as though about to receive an ovation.

Carla shot Dr. Cox a hateful look and stalked off, Turk in tow.

To her credit, Elliot simply rolled her eyes and flounced away.

Which left me, standing meekly, anticipating the torrent that was imminent.

But instead of lashing out after his ignored rant, Dr. Cox just kind of made a small bewildered "eh" noise and leaned his back against the counter, crossing his arms and staring straight ahead. He stood there for a moment before finally turning his head to look at me. "Well there, Sophie, what'd you decide about this whole stupid conference thing? What aspect of yourself did you choose to send to its death? Your thirst for knowledge? Your reputation? Your pride? Your firstborn child? Yeah, you heard me right, Princess, and I'm not referencing the movie anymore. Because that's what you're gonna owe Dr. Bob Lucifer by the time it's all over if you decide to go."

I focused on my breathing, trying to maintain as blank and stony a face as Dr. Cox had on at the moment. If he wasn't going to give me any clues as to what he wanted me to say, I wasn't going to give him anything to go off of, either. But he began to look expectant, waiting for me to answer him, so I had to go and open my big mouth. "Why do you care so much?"

His eyes about popped out of his head. _Oh God, JD, of the hundred or so things floating around in your head, THAT is what you went with? You couldn't have gone with how excited you were to find an Abba Zabba in the vending machine today, or how awesome the last episode of _Charmed_ was, or the name you finally settled on for your stuffed unicorn that Turk got you out of the "Claw" arcade game last weekend? What happened to keeping your mouth shut?_

But strangely for the second time, I didn't have to suffer the wrath of Dr. Cox. He simply folded his hands behind his head and stomped off, muttering disparaging remarks about me as he went. I picked up my pile of charts from the desk and began to idly flip through them, thinking more about what a bizarre day I'd been having than the patients.

---

The rest of Thursday was a blur to me. I did my work, but not with the kind of JD Pizzazz I usually put into it. Everyone noticed pretty much, and when they asked I attributed it to anxiety about the upcoming announcement, which wasn't entirely true. But I was also worried about Dr. Kelso and Dr. Cox. I felt like I was missing something big from each of them, but I just had no clue what it could be. I kept feeling, as Ted had said, like some sort of chew toy. The dogs were out in the yard, and I could hear them growling and barking, and all I could do was lie there with dread, knowing sometime very, very soon they'd be back, gnashing their teeth all around me while spittle flew everywhere.

That was the frightening image I fell asleep to, and when I woke in the morning I was wrapped in my sheet on the floor feeling like I'd been chewed up and spit out. I couldn't remember which dog eventually got me in my dreams, but I do remember I was squeaking a lot.

When I arrived at work, I stashed my backpack in my locker and gussied up for rounds. Just as I was about to slam the locker door, I noticed a manila envelope on the upper shelf. It contained a plane ticket, hotel reservation information, and a thick booklet containing details on the conference classes. I briefly leafed through it and hopped up and down a couple times before quickly hiding it in my backpack and rushing to the ICU, wondering if the announcement had been posted yet.

The looks on the faces I passed in the hallways told me it had. Doctors and nurses alike were giving me stink eye as I passed them. Even an orderly pushing a gurney tried to ram me, the patient aboard raising his fist at me as I tried to get by.

The Todd popped out of a patient's room, directly in front of me. He gave me one of the saddest looks I've ever seen on him. "You crushed my stripper hopes and showgirl dreams high five?" he said, holding his hand up weakly.

"Sorry, Todd," I sighed, pressing my palm to his. He snapped his fingers and walked away, dejected.

_Man, I wonder if it's going to be like this all day? At least Turk and Carla will be happy for me, they're the ones who pretty much forced me to talk to Dr. Kelso. I'm kinda worried about Elliot, though. I know I covered up by telling her I wanted her to go, but still… And the way that Dr. Cox left without letting me have it for confronting him was—ohmygosh, Dr. Cox!_

I braced myself as I walked into the ICU, but Dr. Cox wasn't there. I'd been doing that a lot lately, I realized, waiting for him to unload on me and feeling somewhat neglected when it didn't happen. I know, it's dumb, isn't it? Feeling let down if you don't get your ass verbally handed to you on a daily basis. Guess I'm just a weird guy that way.

So not only was Dr. Cox not around, but practically nobody else was either. As I watched my interns trickle in and gather together, I spotted Carla chatting with a patient. I sidled up to her and gave her a little smile in greeting.

"Hey, Bambi," she said cheerfully. "Congrats on the conference spot! You're going to have so much fun. I'm sure Turk will have a list of places for you to check out while you're down there." She patted the patient on the shoulder and turned to walk away, jotting down some notes as she went.

I trailed behind her awkwardly. "Uh, Carla, do you know where Dr. Cox is? Did he come through here already this morning?" I shot a glance at the notice tacked up on the bulletin board.

Carla blinked. "Of course not, he's off through the weekend. Why do you…" She followed my gaze to the announcement. "Ahhh. Look, JD. I thought you were over this. You're doing this for yourself. You're going to go out there and learn, and come back and share your wealth of knowledge. It's good for the hospital, it's good for medicine. Remember that, will you?" She followed that up with a smack to my head. "Are you even listening to me?"

"Yeah, I am," I said, a feeling of relief washing over me. I just had to make it through the weekend, hop on the plane on Monday, and I'd be home free for five glorious days. There might be some crap hitting the proverbial fan upon my return, but I didn't want to worry about that now. Las Vegas, here I come!


End file.
